
Anaesthetic Always Wears Off
“Look over at the door. Do you feel this?” asked the ophthalmologist, and since I thought shaking my head as a negative response was the right thing to do, rather than speaking (no, I have no clever explanation for that) … the long needle positioned down my tear duct slipped and pinched.
I respond weakly, “Just a little bit,” because he and I don’t share a common experience-scale of discomfort; whereas he might think plucking stray hairs from the depths of ones nostril is a 3 on the discomfort scale, I might grab his arm and shout “What the fuck – stop that!” which is what I did last time he tried this procedure (the bladder thingy in my tear duct is damaged from a previous procedure).
“We’ll numb your eye,” and he says, “You’ll not be able to drive, so did someone bring you here, like your partner, spouse, other significant …?”
That’s the problem with the modern English language – clever people keep adding options to the drop-down list of definitions for marital status, or not – I mean you either are or your aren’t, so I say..…
“My husband brought me here and sped off in his demon car back home. So now I’m here with someone who’s always looking for something tasty to go with fava beans and a nice chianti – he’s sitting next to me – and the doctor’s eyes shift quickly to my side.
And I grin, “Sorry, but a girl always needs an ace in her pocket when the other person is manoeuvring a 4-inch long thread-thin needle into her eye.
Written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story including the word “ace“. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2024.
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